Flexibility of the Soul
by WeirdWords
Summary: Miranda has to face something unexpected, and has to learn how to cope. A little OOC, and rating will get up at later chapters.


**Hii, I love this fandom. I think I've read almost all the story's posted here, because, let's face it, Miranda and Andrea are a damn perfect pairing. **

**I decided to create an account and write a little myself. I don't exactly know how I'm going to shape this (I have a rough idea/outline) but I'm sure it will come in bits and pieces. I don't have a beta yet, as this is my first story, so if anyone is interested…^^**

**Thank you for reading this y'all, and let me remind you: English is not my first language, so all mistakes (and I'm convinced that they are there in multitude) are mine, and I beg your forgiveness for it.**

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Miranda sat at her desk. Her assistants were both out on errands so she worked on the book while occasionally she answered the phone. Most of the people knew not to call her but her assistants anyway. Leaving only acquaintances like Donatella or Patrick to be answered. There were three grammar mistakes on the article on mechanical fabric on page 76, Miranda noticed irritated. Joshua would have to improve his writing or she would have no other option than to sent him to AutoWorld. He was too sloppy in his work ethic. And no matter how charming copper shades as a background could be, they were too traditional. She was the best not because she followed but because she leaded. Scribbling notes on post-its she heard the door of her office open and looked up from the book.

In the doorway stood a man, who could easily audition for homeless as he was wearing something that could only be stated as 'rags'. Dark (and dirty, she was unsure which one of the two was dominating) patches of fabric were wrapped around his body, occasionally tied together with rope. He looked like he was an strange version of Otzi. She wasn't fooled however, as he was wearing lapis lazuli earrings. Those were not for the poor. She took him in in silence, while standing up from her seat. He stared back with a blank but genuine face.

'Mrs. Priestly'. His voice was soft and raspy. As if he hadn't been talking for a long time.

'Who are you, and why are you standing in my office?' She looked at him with utter disdain. Despite feeling uncomfortable under his gaze she showed absolute no sign of being impressed. His eyes were calm, she didn't assume he had intentions of harming her. Yet, human beings killed within an eye blink. She tried to locate the safety button under her desk.

'That is not necessary Mrs. Priestly. As I have no intentions to harm you, and I would be gone before your security team arrives.' Apparently he had noticed her subtle movement. It caught her off guard and in reaction she clenched her jaw. She didn't appreciate being off guard.

As the man seemed to notice this too, he made a calming gesture with his hands and continued. 'The who I am is insignificant to the why I am Mrs. Priestly. I came here with a message regarding your safety.'

'Well, that is very friendly of you, but except for this incident I believe my safety is well-taken care of.'

'I'm not talking about physical safety, rather the safety of the soul.'

So he was a religious maniac then. Annoyance filled her body. 'I am not interested in your' She got interrupted by him because he continued as is she hadn't talked in first place. 'The soul is a flexible but incredible complex entity. It is able to break but also to heal. To be scarred but also to grow and redevelop itself. But, when left alone or restrained it will lose its fluidity and become hard and friable.'

Angry that he had interrupted her she gave him an icy glare. 'I do not care for'

'Yourself Mrs. Priestly. You do not seem to care for yourself. And if you will not start caring for yourself, for your well-being, your soul will turn into stone.' He seemed to be serious. But Miranda was done with it. This was time, and time was precious. Too much work to babble around with someone who lost track of reality a long time ago.

'I am afraid I do not have any interest in your message, nor the way you present it, as I have a perfectly public contact address where my people can take notice of your intentions. I have a lot to do, so I suggest you'll leave my office. If not I am forced to contact security who will guide you away.' She threatened. And with her words he seemed to lose a bit of shimmer in his eyes.

'I was afraid this would be the way you reacted. It was a matter of prediction by others, but I gave you the benefit of the doubt. However it seems that heavier measurements are in order.'

What was he talking about?

'The thing is, Mrs. Priestly, that you are too valuable to the bigger span of things, and that the preservation of your soul is of importance. But the way you control your life prevents your soul from breathing. It is therefore decided that you will have change in your life that is beyond your capacities to control. Perhaps this will form a lesson.'

The girls! 'If you so much as touch my family I'll' Miranda hissed.

'Don't worry Mrs. Priestly, there is no interest in alteration to your daughters.'

Miranda chuckled. Apart from her daughters she was almost invulnerable. 'The magazine then. I do wish you good luck in trying to "alternate" it. Many have tried before, I assure you. And I have seen far better threads than this.' She pushed the security button. Calm or not calm, this was becoming a riskier situation by the second.

He answered sternly. 'As that would be too much of an alteration with too many side-effects, I am not allowed to do that, unfortunately. But there are other ways of losing control Mrs. Priestly.' He snapped his fingers, and Miranda felt a heavy gulf of nausea. Yet she refused to believe this shabby creature in front of her would be the cause of it. That was clear nonsense. While trying to stay upright without vomiting she managed to choke: 'Out! You will… leave my office… right away. I notified… Security.'

He slowly blinked his eyes. 'As I already said. There was no need to do that, Mrs. Priestly. I shall leave now until further notice.' The figure disappeared and shut the door before she could threaten him out of this universe. She had no idea where he had gone but she was happy for the reclusion as she was no longer a target and she could clamp her abdomen and fight the nausea without people noticing.

After two minutes of trying to control her breathing she felt clear enough to move again. She called Security and said it was a loose thread, but that they had failed to be at her office in time if it would have been a thread, and that she immediately wanted a change in policies. Or else they would be fired. That's all. She then called Emily and ordered a check-up on her house. She would not be waylaid again.

Deciding that a mere incident wouldn't shove the books deadline any further away it was time to work. She pursed her lips and sat back in her chair, only to jump up right away. What, by all means, was brushing against her leg? Inspecting her chair she couldn't find anything. When trying to sit again she felt it again.

Something was wrong.

With growing anticipation she became aware of her own body. How her silk underwear felt against her skin, how, no! That could not be. That was a ridiculous thought! Miranda told herself.

Yet with a lightning fast pace she walked into her private bathroom. To outrageous with herself that she was even considering this, she zipped open her skirt.

When pushing down she clenched her hands into fists to prevent herself from ripping the fabric when she looked down along her abdomen.

'That arrogant bastard of a man.' She spat out.

Miranda Priestly was officially blessed with a penis.


End file.
